Historian Helena P. Schrader discusses ancient Spartan society and culture, seeking to rectify a number of common misconceptions. She also provides excerpts from her biographical novels about Leonidas and reviews of books on ancient Sparta. For more, visit her website at: http://spartareconsidered.com

Ancient Hoplites

Saturday, June 23, 2012

“JPS” (not otherwise identified) published the following
review of The Olympic Charioteer on April 16 of this year:

After "Are they singing in Sparta", this is Helena
Schraeder's second novel on Sparta. This one takes place around 550 BC, during
the time of one of the great-grandsons of Agesandros (the hero of the first
novel). This great-grandson is the Olympic Charioteer. After having won once
for Sparta, he is captured and enslaved by Tegea following a Spartan defeat
(which is historical) and, contrary to the other captives, he is believed to be
dead and not ransomed. I'll stop there, to avoid any spoilers.

The book has a lot going for it.

One strong point is to depict the live of slaves
in Greek cities and contrast their status with that of the Spartan helots. This
is part of the author's thesis to show that, at the time, Sparta had the most
advanced political regime and society in Greece whereas other cities were ruled
by either aristocracies or tyrants, including Athens.

Another point is to show the political life and
internal conflicts that could lead to civil war (stasis) within the various
cities. Despite its regime, Sparta could also be subject to this, especially if
the two kings chose opposite camps.

A third point is to avoid presenting Sparta as
the invincible city, which it was not, and to show the dilemma that Spartan
Kings, Ephors and members of the Gerousia (the Council of 28 elders plus the
two kings) had to face, and the choice that Sparta made. The alternative was to
attack and conquer Tegea and its territory, and perhaps even Argos afterwards,
just as Sparta had done with Messenia about a century earlier, or to seek
alliance through treaties with its neighbors. Even if victorious, Sparta would
have had to spread its limited armed forces (only 6000 full citizen hoplites
although its lands, according to Aristotle, were sufficient to have a force
five times larger than that) thinly, making it even more vulnerable to attacks
and rebellions. Sparta chose to ally itself with Tegea, its northern neighbor.
This pact of non-agression was the beginning of the Peloponnesian League of
free city-states that Sparta dominated and lead, and which excluded Argos,
which remained its arch-enemy.

There are a few little issues, however. Despite
the author's research and knowledge of the subject, she sometimes get a bit
carried away as when she has one character mentioning Alexandria as a possible
destination for slaves to be sold. Alexandria, of course, did not exist in 550
BC and was founded by Alexander the Great more than two centuries later.
Another little problem, at times, is that the story, which, of course, has a
happy ending, seems a little bit too good to be true and some of the characters
feel a little bit caricatured: the hero is very, very nice and the villains
are, of course, perfectly awful, whether those in Tegea or the Corinthian
chariot owner.

Nevertheless, this was a superb read which I
thoroughly enjoyed, started and finished over the week-end. It is well worth
four stars, although perhaps not five, given the little issues mentioned above.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Most historians confine their
commentary on Leonidas to his appearance and departure from the scene of
history. His reign was, after all, quite
short (ten years) and there were no known changes to Spartan territory or law, no
works of art or monuments, not even any natural disasters, that can be dated
specifically to the reign of Leonidas.
It is therefore presumptuous of me to label Leonidas a “reformer king.”
I know that.

Now that I have your attention….

Looking at Spartan history from the
Messenian War(s) to Sparta’s dismal and ignominious end under Rome, the reign
of Leonidas represents in many ways a turning point. In crude terms, the archaic age extended from
the mid-eight century to end of the 6th century BC. The classical age followed. Thus Leonidas’
reign fell at the transition.

In Sparta, it is exactly that
transition that represents a particularly sharp and significant break in Sparta’s
development. The emergence of Sparta as a
distinct city-state coincides with the dawn of the archaic period. In this period, the
Messenian War(s) sparked unrest that led the Spartans to introduce a unique set of laws. Likewise, Sparta’s most admired statesmen in the ancient world, Lycurgus and Chilon, both lived in the archaic period. While many doubt that Lycurgus was a real person and prefer to see him as a mere legend, Chilon was very certainly real, one of the ancient world’s seven “wise men.”

Archaic Sparta saw not only the establishment of this
new, revolutionary form of government (arguably the first democracy in
history), but also a significant flourishing of the arts and trade. Sparta’s
most significant monuments (e.g. the Menelaion, the Temple of the Bronzehouse Athena, Kastor's Tomb, the Amyklaion, the royal palaces, the Canopy, just to name a few) were constructed
in the archaic period. Sparta’s most famous poets – Tyrtaios, Alkman – lived
and worked in the archaic age. Sparta also produced significant works of art and export quality products. (See my entry: Spartan Artists: Not a Contradiction in Terms).

Sparta in the classical period in
contrast is characterized by artistic stagnation and such a dramatic end to
Sparta’s competitiveness in trade and manufacturing that those who study only
classical and Hellenistic Sparta are completely unaware of Sparta’s impressive earlier
accomplishments. Indeed, based on descriptions of the Spartan state and
constitution written at the end of the fifth century and later, Sparta appears to have become a city-state that disdained luxury and by inference art itself. In short, Spartan society underwent a radical, indeed revolutionary, change in the mid-fifth century BC, immediately following Leonidas' death.

The fact that Leonidas
was the last of the archaic kings not just in terms of timing, but in terms of
policy is demonstrated by the fact that he took an active interest in world affairs and was elected to lead an international coalition of forces. (See: Leonidas the Diplomat) This fits in well with Sparta's archaic reputation for opposing tyrants and the creation of the
Peloponnesian League in the second half of the sixth century. In short, Leonidas' interest in world affairs and his willingness to compromise rather than rely upon brute force were a continuation of the policies of his father and half brother.

Even
more significant is the possibility that Leonidas’ domestic policies were
tolerant and liberal. We know
that in 479, only a year after his death and before his successors could make
any significant changes to Spartan policy, the Spartans were able to deploy thirty-five
thousand helot auxiliaries outside of Lacedaemon. This suggests widespread
support for the Spartan state among the helot population. (The hypothesis that
the Spartans took thirty-five thousand rebellious,
hate-filled, and untrustworthy armed helots with them, when marching out to face the
undefeated Persian army, is ludicrous. Such armed and rebellious helots would have posed an even greater threat to the Spartiates than the Persians themselves!) In addition, in 480 BC Sparta had a fleet
of twenty triremes, requiring almost three thousand five hundred helot oarsmen. That is almost forty thousand helots so loyal to Sparta that the Spartiate elite could -- literally -- entrust their very existence
to them. Leonidas, if not his predecessors, must have done something to win
that loyalty.

Yet
little over a decade later, the only recorded helot revolt against Sparta
erupted. This is highly significant because we know that revolutions do not occur when people are most oppressed,
but rather when rising living standards decline
sharplyand rising political expectations are abruptly disappointed.

This clearly suggests that in the late archaic period, Lacedaemon's helots enjoyed a slow but steady
increase in living standards and political rights. In the post-Leonidas era, however, helot hopes and expectations
were bitterly disappointed, leading to the explosive situation
that culminated in the helot revolt of 465 BC.

Taken together, the artistic flourishing, international and diplomatic successes and helot loyalty, paint a picture of Leonidas' reign that tells us more about King Leonidas than his death at Thermopylae. While it may be impossible to date the artistic achievements to Leonidas precisely, certainly his role in the anti-Persian coalition and the demonstrable loyalty of the helot population in 479 are a tribute to Leonidas personally and specifically.

Could
Sparta’s archaic golden age have continued if Leonidas and his closest
companions had not died at Thermopylae? Probably not indefinitely. Athens was on
the rise; conflict was almost inevitable. Yet there is little doubt that the
helot revolt of 465 BC traumatized Spartan society and set it on a course
toward brutal internal repression. The revolt caused Sparta to create despicable
institutions such as the kryptea and to commit acts of brutality such as the
“disappearance” of thousands of helots who had been led to expect reward. In
addition, the helot revolt led to mistrust of Athens and increasingly rabid
xenophobia. At least some of the might have been avoided had Leonidas remained at Sparta's helm.

It is not too far-fetched to hypothesize that had Leonidas survived
longer, he would have continued the enlightened policies of the archaic kings,
who had lived in harmony with the helot population for well over a century. Certainly
if Leonidas had lived longer, neither Pausanias nor Leotychidas would have been
given a chance to turn Sparta’s allies into enemies.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Herodotus refers to three
separate monuments erected before his time to commemorate the men who fought at Thermopylae. There was a collective monument which read: Four thousand here from Pelops’ land,
Against a million once did stand. There was “a stone lion in memory of
Leonidas,” and a special monument erected by the Spartans with a dedication that in one common
translation ran: “Go tell the Spartans,
stranger passing by, that here, in obedience to the laws, we lie.”

This simple epitaph has, I
believe, been the source of much confusion about Sparta down the ages. It is
widely interpreted to mean that the 300 Spartans who died at Thermopylae had no
option of retreating. Allegedly, these men lay buried in the Pass at Thermopylae, so far
from home, because Sparta’s “laws” forbade retreat regardless of the odds or
the certainty of death.

But as I have pointed out
elsewhere, Spartan forces both surrendered and retreated in a variety of other
engagements over the centuries. The Spartans didn’t seem to think there was a
“law” against retreat even under far less threatening and less hopeless situations
than that presented to Leonidas at Thermopylae. Are we to believe Leonidas and
his 300 were the only Spartans who lived and died by Sparta’s laws? Or could
there be another explanation of the epitaph?

The answer, I believe, can be found in the
fact that there were, in fact, two Spartan monuments: the one to Leonidas and
the one to the other Spartiates. If we separate the two, then we see the glimmer
of an answer because it suggests that the “law” that the 300 obeyed may not
have applied to Leonidas at all.

Leonidas had an option.
Leonidas could have decided to pull-out of the Pass as soon as it became
indefensible. Leonidas would not have broken any “law” if he had done so,
because there was no law that required Spartans to “fight until death rather
than retreat one step.”

But there was a law that required obedience to
Sparta’s kings as long as they were beyond the borders of Lacedaemon in command
of Sparta’s armies. This law is documented and was widely respected. Sparta’s kings could be charged, tried and exiled once
they were at home, but not during war, not abroad. As long as they were abroad on campaign, their troops were bound to obey them, and for the most part did.

What this means is that once
Leonidas decided to stay and die – as he no doubt believed was his destiny
based on the oracle from Delphi – his body guard had no option but to stay with
him. There is anecdotal evidence recorded by Plutarch that Leonidas tried to
save some of his companions by asking them to deliver dispatches, but the
“older men” saw through him and refused. This is consistent with a king
determined to face his destiny, but distressed by the knowledge that his
decision will drag three hundred of Sparta’s finest with him.

The erection of two separate
monuments and the epitaph makes sense in this context as well. Leonidas was the
lion, who decided to go down fighting defiantly rather than live to fight a
second day. After he had made that courageous decision, however, his bodyguard
had no choice and for them, therefore, they lay buried in a foreign pass not as particular heroes but simply “in
obedience to the laws.”

Friday, June 1, 2012

The Spartan Assembly is often portrayed as a body
of dumb, possibly illiterate, automatons, a rubber stamp for the decisions of
the Kings, Gerousia and ephors. This
view of the Spartan Assembly is based on constitutional provisions that appear
to have restricted debate, the
absence of secret ballots, and the assumption that Sparta’s notoriously
obedient soldiers would “take orders” in the Assembly just as they did on the
battlefield.

However, as any officer can tell you, the best
soldiers are not automatons who wait for orders, but thinking, self-confident men
who take the initiative and act without – or even against – orders if necessary.
Furthermore, the famous case of
Amompharetus refusing to obey Pausanias’ orders on the eve of the Battle of
Plataea is a dramatic case in point demonstrating that Spartans didn’t always obey orders – not even on
the battlefield. It further highlights
the fact that commanders in the Spartan army did not command obedience: Amompharetus
was not, after all, summarily executed or even relieved of his command.
Instead, Pausanias tried to reason with him and finally ordered the rest of the army to move out. Last
but not least, Sparta had sufficient confidence in the judgment of its
individual commanders to repeatedly send men of “ordinary” status out act as
advisors to foreign powers, such as Gylippus in Syracus.

Second, the Assembly had real powers, officially more
than the kings. The Assembly elected the
ephors every year and members of the Gerousia whenever vacancies occurred due
to death. Hence men with political ambitions had to lobby and ensure a majority
of votes against rivals. Also, according to most interpretations of the Great
Rhetra, the Assembly had “the final say” on legislation. The Assembly forced more than one king into
exile (e.g. Cleomenes I, Leotychidas, Pleistoanax) and could condemn commanders
who exceeded instructions such as Pausanius and Phoebidas. Thus, despite the inability to introduce
legislation and the public nature of the vote, the Spartan Assembly did
exercise real power.

Most important, however, the Spartan Assembly was
made up of her soldiers and her soldiers knew that they represented the might
and power of Sparta. A body in which a large minority was composed of virile
young men, in peak physical condition, who have been raised to think of
themselves as the elite is unlikely to have been docile. The men who were to be
officers and admirals, magistrates, governors, ambassadors and military
advisors around the world rose through the ranks of the army – and all had a
voice (and probably a following) in the Assembly. Even if some citizens were
indifferent to politics and willing to do what others advised, in every
generation there would have been ambitious young men willing to challenge
existing authority. Certainly the
Assembly as a whole could be quite rowdy as the example of the Assembly (“the
Spartans” – not the ephors or Gerousia) throwing the Persian emissaries of Darius
down a well demonstrates.

What the above suggests is that Spartan citizens
were anything but mindless automatons manipulated by their officers and
political leaders, but self-confident citizens with a highly developed sense of
their own power and confidence in their own capabilities and judgment. Sparta’s citizens were not docile or mindless
pawns, but thinking and responsible citizens – every bit as confident that
their voice in politics mattered as were the citizens of Athens. The differences between Athenian and Spartan
democracy were many, and both were imperfect from the modern standpoint, but
the Spartan citizen’s individual status within his polity should not be
denigrated.